The Battle

Clanging and banging, the noise.
Her intestines churning,
Flesh inside out, burning.
The façade of keeping her poise.

Growing, yet not showing, the doubt.
Palms trembling and sweating.
So close to pants wetting,
Or worse, insides soon to purge out.

Obsessing and stressing, her mind.
Impossible concentration.
Only mental isolation.
Every conversation leaves her behind.

Gnawing and clawing, the fear.
Keeping every sign inside.
She prays for a thought where she can hide.
Or a way to completely disappear.